


Strange Things Will Happen - Book the First

by so_get_this



Series: Strange Things Will Happen [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Good luck with the feels, I promise there's a happy ending, I'm actually not sorry, M/M, Promise, Slow Burn, eventually, oh god I'm SO SORRY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:33:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1972527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/so_get_this/pseuds/so_get_this
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just your standard high school au with Dean being a muppet and in love with Cas. Also, Gabe and Sam are also in love. Also, Charlie is awesome. They're all really really geeky, because like I'm super geeky too, so yeah, that happened.<br/>Also, I suck at summaries.<br/>Please read and kudos and review! I dearly love constructive criticism so please take the time to write something :) Feed my ego! :P<br/>Title comes from the amazaling song Strange Things Will Happen by The Radio Dept. which was part of the soundtrack for TFiOS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In The Beginning

It was a cool summer night when Castiel Novak first set eyes on Dean Winchester. He'd just moved house and he was giddily excited at the newness of everything, from the room that was _his_ instead of being _his and Gabriel's_ to the TV in the living room that he knew he would never watch. But he was caught between that and the terrifying anxiety that threatened to pull him down and under, even in his happiest moments. What if he didn't make any friends? What if no one liked him? What if...? The possibilities were preventing him from sleeping. So he'd snuck out the freshly-painted side door and was currently making his way to the park he'd seen on their drive in that morning. Mum had said they would take a walk around the next morning, but with all the enthusiasm and confidence of a 14 year old who thinks he owns the world, he’d decided to go _now_. 

He’s halfway down the road, and still in full view of his front door, when he decides that maybe this adventure is one better saved for when he has a cloak. Not that he’s scared, but the moon has just been hidden by a cloud and it’s cold and dark and anyway no good adventurer leaves without his cloak and as his is in one of the many boxes in his room he decides he won’t go any further without it.

“Are you lost?” a voice calls from just above him. Castiel turns to see a boy not much older than himself leaning out of the window of the house next to him.

“I’m on an adventure,” Castiel says, “but I left my cloak at home so I think I’m going to go back and maybe sleep until it’s unpacked.”

The boy nods as though this makes perfect sense.

“I’m Dean,” the boy says with a little half wave.

“Castiel,” he replies.

“Castiel,” the boy repeats, savouring the taste of the name on his lips.

“Dean?” a younger voice calls from behind the boy, making him turn. “Who are you talking to?”

“Just a new friend. Go to sleep, Sammy,” Dean says, smiling.

“Oh come on!”

Dean rolls his eyes but ruffles the mop of untidy brown hair that pops up beside him.

“See?” Dean says, smiling, “he’s called Castiel.”

“Hey Castiel!” Sammy says, grinning. He’s adorable, Castiel thinks, all innocence and smiles and missing front teeth.

He looks at over at Dean to find him gazing back. He wonders if this is what it feels when you know someone will be your best friend for ever and ever. He wonders if Dean is wondering the same thing.

“I should go home,” Castiel says, sadly. Dean nods. Neither of them move. They are watching, listening, though neither knows what for.

And then Sammy yawns loudly, breaking the moment. Dean smiles ruefully, and turns away.

“Goodnight,” they whisper.

See you soon, they hope.

When Castiel wakes up the next morning it is with a smile. And he finds he no longer minds about school or friends or anything else, because didn’t Dean already call him a friend? And didn’t he smile and introduce him to his brother?

Maybe this will go just as well as his parents said it would. Maybe he doesn’t need to worry. Maybe all of this is only true because of the light in Dean’s eyes as he smiles.

 

* * *

 

“May I present to you the latest member of our group!” Charlie is practically dying with excitement, her hands gesticulating wildly in the vague direction of a small blond-haired boy wearing a leather jacket that is two or three sizes too large for him

“Dean,” I introduce myself, smiling at him.

“Gabriel,” he replies, almost shyly.

“I met Gabriel here at that book event I was at on Saturday. He actually dared to tell me that my cosplay of Indy was technically inaccurate, so of course I adopted him immediately.”

“Takes guts to tell this one when she’s wrong,” I laugh, tipping an imaginary hat at him, “I know I’d never dare.”

Charlie flicks water at me just as Sam walks over.

“What did Dean do this time?” he asks.

“Why do you always assume I did something wrong?”

“Because you’re always doing something wrong,” Sam retorts, ducking behind Charlie as I reach out to hit him. After a moment he notices the new boy and smiles warmly.

“Hi, I’m Sam,” he says to Gabriel, putting out his hand for him to shake with far more formality than the situation needs or indeed deserves. I roll my eyes.

“Gabriel,” he replies. The hand shake goes on for what I feel is a totally inappropriate amount of time, so I cough loudly. They look away from each other, a faint blush creeping onto Sam’s cheeks as he squeezes onto the bench next to me. Opposite Gabriel. The fact that they continuously sneak glances at each other throughout lunch does not escape my notice, nor Charlie’s either from the amused looks she keeps shooting me.

After like ten minutes of this I see the guy from last night, Castiel, walk away from the serving area with a half-full tray.

“One second guys,” I say to the table where Gabriel and Sam and Charlie are arguing cheerfully about whether or not Kirk and Spock are in love. They don’t pay my words much attention, as Sam has started bringing in the new film as evidence and Gabriel hasn’t seen it yet which has shocked and astounded Charlie.

“Castiel!” I call across the crowded cafeteria. He jumps a little, knocking his juice carton onto the floor. 

“Dean?” he says, smiling shyly.

“First day here, huh?” I say as I make my way towards him. 

“Yes. I do not appear to have made any friends yet.”

I smile warmly at him. “Don’t be daft, we’re friends, right? Come sit with me? I’m over there, by the window, with Charlie and Gabriel and my brother Sam. Charlie and Gabriel are in my year, and Sammy’s a couple years below. Gabriel’s new too, so I don’t know him so well yet, and my brother and Charlie can be a bit full-on sometimes, but their hearts are in the right place, and I just know they’ll like you.”

“Thank you, Dean, I would like to sit with you.”

I pick up his juice carton, passing it from one hand to another as I lead him over to the seat he will occupy for years to come; the one next to mine.


	2. So Dean's in love with Cas, but he's also kind of an idiot. Also, Sam and Gabe are in love, but they're both kind of idiots too.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is like 4 years after chapter 1. Dean and Charlie and Cas and Gabe are all 18, Sam is 16. Something that I'm not sure was made entirely clear is that Gabe and Cas are non-identical twin brothers.  
> Enjoy! :)

Even sitting here in this crowded club with a million things to look at I can only see eyes of the bluest blue to ever blue, and a smile so friendly it feels like it could warm up a room. It is like finding utterly beautiful silence in the bustle of a city, like the eye in the turmoil of the storm. He is the antidote to any poison, the angel to any demon. How is it possible for me to sit here and smile at anyone else when there is a man like that in the world? But clearly I’ve had a few too many if I’m allowing myself to think like _that_. 

The man across from me - Jacob? Jason? Jared? -  finally says a bitter goodbye. I’ve barely spoken to him, and even though I agreed more-than-willingly to dinner I can’t find it within myself to care.

“If you didn’t want to be here, you could have just said no,” is the line he throws over his shoulder at me as he saunters out into the evening sun. All I can think of is how those fingers might feel interlinked with mine.

Charlie struts onstage to a few friendly cheers and scattered applause. I half-listen to her banter with the crowd while thinking that I cannot believe that it has been nearly 4 years and yet I have never heard Cas sing. Play piano, sure, and I love watching him. But never sing. And now he’s sitting onstage in that stupid adorable trenchcoat and a shy smile because it’s open mike night and he lost a bet to Charlie and so he has to sing one song Charlie’s half-brother’s club. I wonder if he’s as good at singing as he is at _everything else_ and then laugh because of course he is, he’s Cas. He plays his way awkwardly through the first few bars, grinning briefly as Charlie wolf-whistles him.

And then Cas opens his mouth. And I suddenly cannot think, not even to breathe. And I suddenly do not want to ever again, if not-thinking is this.

And, oh, if I thought he was beautiful before it is nothing, absolutely _nothing_ , compared to this.

“Quite something, isn’t he.” 

Gabriel appears so suddenly as my side that I just gape at him in shock before realising that yes he spoke and yes he’s probably waiting on an answer and yes this now looks weird, well done, Dean. I manage to shrug with feigned nonchalance and mutter some generic comment about how he’s okay. Or something. My brain still hasn’t quite kicked into gear yet. Gabriel gives me a look that clearly tells me that he knows exactly what I think of Cas, but he lets it go. Which is actually kind of annoying because I have no idea what I think of Cas and it would be nice if he could explain it to me. Well. Actually, I know exactly how I feel about Cas, I’m just too chicken to do a damn thing about it. If Gabriel confronted me then at least I’d be forced to do fucking something.

I see Sam approaching with our drinks and I give him a look that is intended to say ‘hurry the fuck up because to deal with these conflicting emotions about Cas I need some alcohol in my system like five minutes ago’. He just shoots me bitch face #12, almost as though he actually understood, and takes his sweet time. When he finally rolls up and places a full glass of something in front of me I glare at him. But he’s too busy making gooey eyes at Gabriel to notice.

“Hey, Gabe,” he smiles.

“Hey yourself,” Gabriel replies, shifting awkwardly in that damn leather jacket that he has finally grown into and a tight shirt that reveals a not unattractive chest that Sam has clearly noticed. I gag at what is clearly Unresolved Sexual Tension. I mean, I’m the last person to ever say that I wish Sammy would get laid, but seriously this is getting pretty ridiculous. No one cares that they’re obviously gay for each other (or, in Gabe’s case, just full on gay) so they should just bang already and get it over with. Ewww okay, that was not an image I needed. I shudder, and Sam gives me an odd look. If only he knew.

They start talking about some new movie they saw the other day, something cute and romantic and coupley, and from what I can tell it was totally date-material and how can they really not see how in love they are? I sigh exasperatedly, rolling my eyes, and watch Cas instead. Because honestly, who wouldn’t? He’s about halfway through now, reaching the second chorus of this average pop song about unrequited love that becomes nothing short of perfection somewhere between his fingers on the keys and the words passing across his lips. And now I have another reason to sigh. Because I know it’s a disgusting cliché but this song could be about me because I am head-over-heels in love with my totally straight and totally male best friend. And it feels like flying. And it hurts like nothing else can.

When Cas plays the final few chords, there is blissful silence for an instant before the room erupts into applause. He blushes, takes a lopsided bow, and then makes his way carefully down to where Charlie is waiting to envelop him in a hug. I weave between tables and chairs towards him, grinning like an idiot as I pretend for just an instant that maybe he chose that song especially to be about someone and that maybe that someone was me. Because I have never hidden anything from him except this, and never hidden anything better in the whole of my life.

When Charlie stops hugging him, he turns to me and the way that his arms wrap around me and his head nestles just below my chin allow me to continue pretending, so I close my eyes. I don’t care that Charlie is stifling a giggle or that the whole room is watching. Just this once I’d like to believe that this is real outside of my wildest dreams, my most beloved fantasies. Just this once I’d like to think that there is love in those blue eyes, the kind of love that I cannot even hope to deserve but desperately long for anyway. Just this once I’d like to believe that there is the possibility of an _us_ , because I want that more than anything.


	3. Back to school and geeky conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the first day of the school year, chapter 2 was set kinda during the summer holidays.  
> Contains minor spoilers for The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, which is one of the best books ever and you should totally read it/watch the movie/just read all of his books.  
> Please kudos/review :)

Day one of the new school year and I’m already dreaming of the next holiday. Charlie and I have taken our usual seats in English behind Cas and Gabriel, the only class we all share. 25 minutes in and I want to kill Mrs Milton. 35 and I want to kill myself. I mean, seriously, can we move on from discussing our holidays anytime soon? I’m 18 for fucks sake, I don’t care what everyone did for 2 months, except for Charlie and Cas and Gabriel and I know what they did because _I was fucking there_. 

Finally we move away from our holidays and onto Mrs Milton’s favourite pastime; clearly showing off that her favourite student by a long long way is Adam Milton, her son. We all figured it out after the first 3 weeks here, and that was four years ago. I mean, Jesus, get over yourself. And get over him.

“Alright, Adam, we all know you know the answer," Miss Milton simpers after asking a question that is clearly impossible for _anyone_ to answer without having previously seen her lesson notes because even Cas doesn’t know. "Put down your hand and give another student the chance to answer."

The boy in question lowers the offending limb, smugly glancing over his shoulder to ensure that the whole class saw.

"Pretentious show off," I say under my breath to Charlie, who stifles a giggle.

"Something to share, Dean?" Milton snaps at me.

“No, ma'am," I reply, grinning at Charlie once she's turned her back. Cas twists his head around from where he sits in front of us in order to glare at me, so I wink at him. His eyes widen slightly and I see the beginning’s of a flush start to creep its way up his cheeks before his head snaps round to face the board. Weird. My hand moves of its own accord to slash the nub of a charcoal pencil on the paper in front of me. It's only when Charlie gasps quietly that I really look at what I've drawn. Broad, strong lines frame his features, hair scruffy and eyes blown wide. After years of fighting it, Castiel Novak has finally crept through my head and into my fingers. And he's utterly, breathtakingly beautiful. I immediately screw it up and stuff it into my bag.

“It’s just a stupid sketch," I mutter, rolling my eyes but not daring to even glance at Charlie until she puts a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"I get it," she breathes into my ear, then grins cheekily. "Boy, have you got it bad though.”

“Will you ever accept that just maybe I’m not in love with Cas?"

“Never!”

I swipe at her, earning me a disapproving glare from Mrs Milton. Totally worth it.

 

* * *

 

“It’s fine, I’ll take the bus,” Cas is saying to Charlie as they round the corner. I’ve pulled my collar up in the hope it’ll protect me from the worst of the weather. Damn this rain.

“Cas, I’m sure Dean can give you a lift,” Charlie is protesting, but Cas just shakes his head.

“I’m really fine.”

“It’s raining!”

“No, really?” Cas shoots back, sarcasm dripping from his words faster than the rain itself from the end of his nose. Charlie regards him seriously for a moment, Cas meeting her gaze with the stubbornness he’s always had. He won’t give in on this and there’s no reason to even try.

“Well, if you’re completely sure…” Charlie bounces forward to envelop Cas in a hug that he readily returns.

“See you tomorrow!” she calls out as she swings into my passenger seat.

“Bye, Charlie.”

I half-wave at him, and he returns the gesture with a small smile, before hurrying away. Maybe I should have insisted he came with us, but who knows his reason for not wanting to. Even after all this time I feel like we barely know him, barely scraped the surface of everything he is. I’ve only once met his parents, but Mum says they fight a lot. Maybe that’s why. When we drive past him at the bus stop, he looks utterly miserable, lips curled down, eyes narrowed, arms folded tight across his chest. So when I get home after dropping off Charlie, I send Cas a text, offering to drive him to school the next day. Only so he doesn’t have to take the bus, of course. Nothing to do with the fact that I’d love for him to be sat next to me, to breathe him in. And the smile that sits on my face all through dinner has nothing to do with the text he sends in reply to say that yes thank you he would be very grateful if I would.

 

* * *

 

When I get into bed that night I lie there for what seems like hours, staring up. I had fished the drawing out of my bag, carefully smoothing over Cas's crumpled features and taped it to the ceiling. It really is an incredible likeness, if I do say so myself, and I fall asleep with him watching over me. My own personal guardian angel.

 

* * *

 

The next day I pull up outside his house at 7.30am sharp. There’s no way I’m going to miss this opportunity by being late. Cas is already waiting for me, sitting out on the front step, nose buried deep in a book. His iPod is sitting on his lap and he has one headphone in, one out. Caught halfway between our world and his own. I decide not to just beep the horn at him, and so instead I get out of the car and scrunch my way up the gravel drive towards him 

“Morning, Cas,” I say, only just loud enough for him to hear me, so I don’t make him jump.

“Morning,” he replies, not moving, eyes not even lifting from the pages.

“You want to get going?” I tease, and he flushes slightly before clumsily getting to his feet.

He follows me back to the car, not tearing his eyes away from the book until he needs his hand to open the passenger door and slide inside. As soon as he’s in, his eyes are back to scouring the page in front of him, not even glancing at me. I’d feel hurt, but it is kinda cute, and I’m used to this behaviour from Cas. I put the car in gear and pull away.

“So, what are you reading?” I ask, when he reaches the end of the chapter.

“Harry Potter,” he mumbles.

“Oh, cool! Which one?” I ask, grinning.

Cas looks half surprised, but shows me the cover, returning my smile. “Prisoner of Azkaban. It’s my favourite.”

“I always preferred Half-Blood Prince, myself,” I muse, “but Prisoner of Azkaban is awesome too.”

And hence begins yet another geeky conversation. He’s determined to convince me that Harry Potter are the Best Books Ever, and while I absolutely love them it’s hilarious to pretend that I only think they’re okay and watch his brow crinkle in frustration and then mock anger when I finally admit I was only messing with him. As what he calls ‘payback’ (with actual air quotes) he digs a clearly well-read copy of The Fault in Our Stars out of his bag and presses it into my hands.

“Am I going to regret reading this?” I ask, even as I trace my hands over the clouds on the battered cover, but he is adamant.

“Trust me, you’ll love it,” he smirks.

And of course when I read it that night, staying up until the wee small hours to finish it, I love it, and of course I cry which was totally his ‘payback’. And though I’d never admit it out loud I fall in love with John Green in much the same way that I fall in love with everything else he’s ever suggested to me. And maybe I go online and order myself a copy of all 6 of his books. Maybe.


	4. I am so so sorry

“Movie night!” Charlie calls as she rings the doorbell loudly at 10pm, Friday evening. Good thing Mum and Sammy are away this weekend at some math competition because honestly that girl could wake the dead.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming! Jeez you’re so freaking impatient!” I shout back as I pull open the front door. Charlie is beaming on the front step with a very amused looking Cas standing next to her.

“Oh yeah, I brought Cas, hope you don’t mind? Good!” Charlie barges past me. “I’ll start on the popcorn!”

There is a pause in her wake once the kitchen door swings closed behind her when we just look at each other.

“May I come in?” Cas asks, almost shyly, though God knows he has no reason to be. He’s been here before. Oh, I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve been here before.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I say, shaking my head slightly to clear it _because he’s straight, Dean, and he doesn’t love you and you don’t deserve him even if he was interested which he isn’t_ then turn and lead the way into the kitchen where Charlie is watching the bag of microwave popcorn slowly grow. She turns and grins at us.

“Man, it’s been too long since we last had a movie night! Must have been my birthday, and that was, like, months ago! Okay, okay, salt or sweet?”

“Salt,” Cas and I say at the same time, then smile at each other.

“Sweet,” Charlie replies.

“You are a traitor to popcorn eaters everywhere,” I say, mockingly.

“Be nice, or no popcorn for you,” she counters, sticking her tongue out at us both. Cas rolls his eyes.

“All righty! Dean, go put the movie on?”

“Is that a request or a command?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah, you never could.”

I make my way through to the living room, Cas following me, and call back to her over my shoulder.

“What are we watching?”

“Star Wars!” she sings excitedly.

“Again?” 

“Cas hasn’t seen Return of the Jedi yet!”

“Really?” I turn to the man himself, who just shrugs.

“Never found the time,” he replies calmly.

“Dude, for Star Wars you _make_ time,” I say.

“Not scientifically possible, but I take your point.”

“Alright, Spock,” I tease.

“Spock?”

“Man, have you never seen Star Trek either?”

“Not as of yet.”

“How have we known each other for four years and yet you have never seen Star Trek. I feel like I’ve failed you as a friend.”

Cas only laughs and rolls his eyes.

“I can assure you, Dean, that you are a wonderful friend,” he says.

“Okay, we’ll start watching that next time, you’re gonna love it,” I promise, speaking only so he doesn’t hear my voice catch.

“Next time?” he says, almost hopefully.

“Yeah, of course. Did you not think we’d invite you back?” I tease.

The smile he shoots my way should not make me feel like I’m on top of the world.

 

* * *

 

About halfway through the movie Charlie complains she doesn’t have enough popcorn, so I go to the kitchen to find another bag. I’m just considering whether or not she’d kill me if I gave her salt when Cas walks in.

“Hey buddy, you enjoying it?”

“Sure,” he replies, enthusiastically.

“Any chance I could get some water?” he asks.

“Knock yourself out,” I say, handing him a glass. Because I am literally the clumsiest person ever, my shoulder crashes into his as he leans to turn on the tap, and he winces. 

“Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” he snaps. I narrow my eyes at him. He stares me down, so I know he’s hiding something.

I place a hand gingerly on his upper arm, and watch him carefully suppress the pain that flashes across his face. 

“You sure? Because this definitely hurts.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“You got a bruise there or something?”

“Or something,” he mutters. We stare each other down.

“Take your shirt off,” I order.

“But, Dean, aren’t you going to buy me a drink first?” He laughs nervously, trying to make a joke of it.

“Cas. Shirt off. Now.” 

He narrows his eyes slightly and purses his lips before apparently deciding that I’m not joking. So he tugs off his shirt, and I notice how he does this almost entirely with his left arm despite being right-handed. Curious. In any other situation I would be checking out the utter perfection that is his body - okay, okay, I had a quick look, so sue me - but my attention is quickly taken by something far more important. The thin, angry line of an infected cut runs down his right upper arm. It’s barely started to scab so this is fresh; a couple of days at the very most.

“What happened?” I ask, softly.

“Nothing.” I shoot him a look.

“So you’re telling me that this just appeared on you without anyone doing anything?”

“Yeah, that’s about right,” he says, keeping his expression neutral. We stare each other down for a few moments before I decide that right now it doesn’t matter where it came from. All that matters is that it looks kind of infected, he probably didn’t clean it, and that if there’s one thing I know how to do it’s clean wounds.

“Wait here,” I tell him, before going to fetch the first aid kit from where it lives under the sofa. Charlie has fallen asleep waiting for us, and I smile as I place a blanket over her thin shoulders before returning to Cas.

“Right, I’m just going to clean it up some, okay?”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want them having to chop off your pretty arm,” I say, rolling my eyes as I rip open an antiseptic wipe. “This is going to sting, sorry, Cas.”

“That’s okay,” he responds softly, blue eyes meeting mine in awe. I wonder when the last time was that anyone really took care of him, and I smile warmly back. We’re not talking, but somehow we don’t need to.

“What’s going on?” 

Cas and I both jump when we hear Charlie’s voice in the doorway. She is sleepily rubbing a hand through her pixie cut, bleary eyed. From where she’s standing she can’t see Cas’s arm, and I am as grateful as he is for that.

“Nothing. Just go back to sleep, Charlie,” I say quietly.

“Okay, okay, just keep down the sexy nakedness, okay?” she says as she shuffles back out. I breathe out a sigh of relief and smile wearily at Cas.

“Does she think we were like making out or something?” he asks.

“Dunno man, why, do you want to?” I shoot him a filthy wink.

“Shut up, Dean,” he retorts, rolling his eyes.

“Make me.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Maybe you should.”

We stare at each other, not quite daring to make the first move. Eventually I turn my attention back to his arm, but I am now acutely aware just how close I am to him. Deep breath in, Dean, deep breath out.

 

* * *

 

After I’ve finished cleaning up the wound, and wrapped a bandage around it, I look over at the clock to see it’s already 1.30. With Charlie already asleep, there’s no point in finishing the movie now, so I turn off the TV. We can watch it in the morning.

We’d been planning to just crash in the living room, but I don’t think Cas should sleep on the sofa, not with the condition his arm is in. And maybe I also like the idea of him sleeping in my bed. So I lead him upstairs to my bedroom and help him crawl under the covers. He’s out almost before his head hits the pillow. I stand there a while, just watching him, before switching out the light and making my way back downstairs to my own fitful night’s sleep.

 

* * *

 

I wake up before Cas or Charlie do, so I decide to start on breakfast which basically consists of the popcorn left over from the night before. Charlie shuffles in next, rubbing her eyes as she slumps down at the table.

“Food?” she says, blearily.

“Gimme two secs.”

“Whatever,” she grunts back, then rests her head on the table.

It takes a large bowl of popcorn and two cups of coffee before Charlie is anywhere close to being conscious, and by that time Cas has woken up and come downstairs. He’s managed to put his shirt back on, something I’m rather disappointed about. He smiles as me gratefully, and I don’t think it has much to do with the bowl of popcorn I’ve put in front of him.

“If you guys are still hungry, I think we’ve got some cereal somewhere,” I say, but Charlie waves this away.

“No, we have to eat up the popcorn, Mum said she’d disown me if any came home.”

“She dieting again?”

“Yup, and it’s driving me crazy.”

After a sleepy morning in which we finish off the movie and just generally mess around with the remains of the popcorn, Cas claims he has a load of homework to do and Charlie groans and agrees, shooting a goodbye over her shoulder as she makes her way out to her car. Cas hugs me quickly but fiercely, his arms slipping round my waist the way Sam’s used to when he was still young enough to want to hug me, whispers a quiet “thank you” in my ear, and then follows her. I cannot think of a time when I have been happier. And oh how it hurts.

 

* * *

 

I’m sitting at lunch alone on Monday having just bought one of the cafeteria’s award-winning chocolate milkshakes. But before I can immerse my tastebuds in that first sip of gooey chocolatey deliciousness, Charlie leaps in front of me and tears it out of my hands.

“Hey!” I protest, swiping at her as she holds it just out of reach.

“You owe me one!” she claims loudly while manoeuvring the straw into her mouth with her tongue. I just roll my eyes; there’s nothing else I can really do.

Cas and Gabriel are both away on some Biology field trip thing and Sam is sleeping off the excitement of winning the Maths competition so obviously Charlie takes advantage of the opportunity to quiz me over Cas because she is determined to get us to hook up; like that’s going to happen. She thankfully doesn’t seem to remember walking in on us in the kitchen; which is something of a miracle, since I don’t even know how I’d begin to explain that one. However, she does clearly remember that when she went to the bathroom in the morning, my bedroom door was open and Cas was topless and curled up in my bed. And I’m having a hard time persuading her that nothing happened. 

“But I don’t understand why he was upstairs!” She is saying.

“Like I said, I was showing him my new guitar. And then we were just talking and then he fell asleep and I didn’t want to move him.” Which is actually half true, but she is convinced that we had wild, passionate sex. I wish. 

“So you’re telling me you’re not even a little bit attracted to him? I mean come on, he’s gorgeous! I’m even considering turning straight for him,” she teases, winking at me. I know she’s joking, but it still bugs me, and I know she can tell, so I just sigh exasperatedly and grudgingly admit it.

“Okay, fine. So I maybe possibly have a crush on Cas."

Her eyes light up at this revelation, but she just pokes me and says, “Dean, you are such a liar. You’re practically in love with him.”

“Oh shut up.” I can feel myself blushing. Damn face for betraying me. I kept this a secret for so many years, and now it’s all out. A bubble of panic rises within me but I push it down. Charlie wouldn’t tell him. Charlie would never do that to me.

“Ooooh! So how long have you liked him for?” She looks like Christmas has come 11 months early.

“A while.” 

“Have you told him?”

“What? No!” She looks surprised.

“Why ever not?”

“Because he doesn’t feel the same. And I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re so freaking clichéd. But seriously, are you going to tell him?”

“No, of course not. There’s no point.”

Charlie spends the rest of lunch trying to get me to publicly declare my undying love for Cas. Never going to happen. Even if he was interested in guys, which he’s not, why would he be interested in me? Eventually she throws her arms up in frustration, proclaims me the most boring and annoying person on earth, then launches straight into an excited babble about this girl she met over the weekend. I half-listen, nodding and laughing at all the right places, but I think she can tell my heart’s not really into it.

“Are you okay, Dean? I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Huh? No, it’s fine. But, Charlie?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“You absolutely cannot tell him.”

“Don’t you worry, my young Padawan, your secret is safe with me.”

 

* * *

 

But I have more important things to worry about than whether or not Cas knows about my pathetic little crush. Namely, that cut. Because I can tell when a cut is an accident and when it’s been slashed through skin in anger and hate and frustration. And I can tell you now; that was no accident.

We’re in the library now, and technically both working on an essay we need to write for English, but I have to find out who hurt him. I have to make them pay. 

“Who did this to you, Cas? Just tell me. Please. I want to help.”

“You can’t.”

“At least let me try,” I plead.

“I… I can’t, okay? I just can’t.”

“Please.”

“This is non-negotiable, Dean,” he replies in that voice he only uses when he not kidding, when he doesn’t want to be told otherwise.

We look at each other, my eyes flitting between his, searching for a sign that this wall he’s built between us might crumble.

“Okay,” I say at last, “but if you want anything, need anything, I’m one phone call away.”

“Thanks.” He sounds like he means it, but with Cas? Who knows.

We chat for a while about nothing important, and then I say I have to go. I can tell he’s uncomfortable with me being there and I don’t want to make him feel any worse than he already does.

 

* * *

 

I get a call from him at 3am. I don’t think that there’s a worse time to call someone really, because only emergency calls come at 3am. He wants to meet outside my house, so I sleepily creep downstairs and out onto the front porch. He’s already sitting there, waiting for me.

“Cas? What’s up?”

“Dean, there’s something I have to tell you, about that cut.”

“What is it?”

“No one else did that to me.”

I pause and look at him, not wanting to understand but at the same time knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that I know and that really I have known all along.

“What do you mean?” I ask, hoping I’m wrong because _please I must be wrong don’t let him be as broken as me_.

“I… Dean… I did that to myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am so so sorry. Please don't kill me. But, like, comment and kudos and let me know what you think? Please?  
> NB: The more people comment/kudos the more likely this fic is to have a happy ending ;) It's a scientifically proven fact ;)


	5. I apologise for hurting these poor characters. But it's kinda better now. A bit.

“I’m better now,” Cas is saying, and something about a multitude of coping mechanisms that started the morning after I saw that cut because he didn’t want to hurt me, but all I can think of is that all this anger I have at whoever hurt him, all that time it was him.

“You did that to yourself,” I echo, blandly.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“My parents fight all the time. They get mad at each other, then mad at me. It is my only way of controlling some of the pain I’m going through, it’s my only way to stay alive.” 

And then he starts crying softly, his eyes tight shut, almost as though he is waiting for me to shout at him or hit him or hurt him in the way he has been hurting himself.

“Oh, Cas,” I whisper, and then I wrap my arms around him. I will not let him think he has to face this alone. He needs me to be Just A Friend and also Not Broken and so for him I will fake it.

“Thank you, Dean,” he murmurs in my ear, his voice filled with barely concealed pain and a hint of hope that despite everything he might actually be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is kinda short, but the next chapter is longer :) Patience, grasshopper, patience ;) Please comment and let me know what you think! :)


	6. A thought of Dean's that he's far too closeted to say in this story: there are few things so beautiful as studying in the warm with the boy you love in the muffled quiet of a snowy day.

The cold winter's air chills the inside of my lungs as I gently pace down the road. Cars rush past, much faster than the steadily falling snow. I wonder if we'll get enough tonight for college to be cancelled tomorrow. I reach Cas’s house just as it’s starting to get heavier, and I shift my rucksack full of textbooks to the other shoulder as I ring the doorbell.

“Morning,” I grin when he finally opens the door.

“Hey,” he replies with a small, tired smile.

“You ready to get started?” I ask.

“Oh, God. No. Never. If I have to see another revision card ever again I will shoot someone.”

I laugh and clap him on the back as he moves out of the way to let me inside.

 

* * *

 

By the time we've finished studying the sky has grown dark and a deep chill has settled in the air, almost enough to overcome the warmth of the fire and the blankets and Cas's legs pressed against my side. We eventually give up on english lit and switch on the telly, mindless cartoons blaring in the background as our eyes gradually flutter closed.

I wake an hour or so later to the sound of my phone ringing. Cas has leant his head on my shoulder, so I try to move without disturbing him.

"Mum?"

"Hey honey, just letting you know that we're snowed in, and I just had a call from the admin at college to say it's closed for the rest of the week. I guess you're still with Cas?"

"Yeah, I am. If I can't get home then I'm sure he won't mind me sleeping on his sofa or something."

"Okay, text me tomorrow to let me know you're safe?"

"Sure, Mum. Bye."

"Bye sweetie."

I end the call and look over to see Cas has woken up, all ruffled hair and bleary eyes. God he's cute. No, come on, Dean, you’re just friends, remember? You have no right to think he’s cute. Although then again, I tell Charlie that she’s cute, like all the freaking time. And if we’re just friends, does it really matter whether or not I think he’s cute? I shake my head a little to clear it.

"Who was that?” he is saying.

"My mum. She says they're totally snowed in and she thinks I won't be able to get home. Can I crash on your sofa?"

"Sure, I might even be able to find you a mattress or something."

"That'd be cool, but don't stress yourself over it, I'm used to sofas.”

Cas does indeed find a mattress, and we spread it out on the floor of his room. But really it’s far too cold for lying there alone so we curl up under a pile of blankets on his bed and talk until we fall asleep.

And if we wake up in the morning wrapped around each other, well, it _was_ very cold.


	7. Finally Sam and Gabe get a chapter!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is from Sam's perspective :) And I'm putting up the next chapter now too, because they follow on from each other :) Lucky you! :)

I’m round Gabe’s house for the weekend, because everyone is busy and I anyway like spending time with him. We’re just hanging out in his room when I hear an angry voice shout up to us from downstairs.

“Gabriel!”

“Yes, Mum?” Gabe calls back.

“Why is there a crack in this vase?”

“No idea, Mum.”

“There’s a note next to it mentioning something about a great baseball bat fiasco? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“I’ll, uh, give you the money for a new one!” Gabe says, screwing up his eyes and crossing his fingers. There is a pause, just long enough for it to start to feel uncomfortable.

“Alright, I’ll take it out of your allowance.”

“Thanks, Mum!”

“Just don’t tell your father,” she warns, and then we hear the kitchen door slam shut.

“What was the great baseball bat fiasco?” I ask, eager to hear the story.

“Cas and I were playing baseball and he maybe hit the ball through the open window, and it broke the vase. And I promised to take the blame and pay for the replacement if he did me a favour.”

“So he owes you a favour, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

“What will you make him do?”

“Ah, you’ll see, little one, you’ll see,” Gabe winks in that utterly aggravating way that only serves to remind me that there are 2 long years between us. I roll my eyes.

Then there is a pause in which we only see each other.

“So what do you want to do now?”

“Dunno, you’re the guest, you choose something?”

“Don’t play that card on me!” I laugh, poking him, which of course only serves to start a poke war to end all poke wars. I win, but only because I’m taller and therefore able to pin him down more easily.

After poking him into submission, we decide to watch TV for a bit. There’s nothing much on so we end up watching cartoons while talking about how Dean and Cas are totally in love with each other and we should get them together as soon as is humanely possible. We’re just finalising our master plan - which is either locking them in a cupboard together or forcing them under some mistletoe at Christmas - when my phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Sammy, it’s Dean. Umm Mum’s going out for dinner with someone this evening so she said we can order in something. Cas is already here, and you can invite Gabriel if you want.”

“Sounds good! I’ll ask him, see you in ten!”

“Bye, Sammy.”

“Just Sam,” I say, but he’s already hung up.

“So, Gabe, you want to come round for dinner to watch my emotionally deficient brother refuse to admit his love for Cas? And maybe a movie after?”

“There’s no way I’d rather spend my evening.”


	8. There was nothing happening!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows directly on from chapter 7 :) Enjoy! :)

After I hang up on Sammy, I turn to smile at Cas. We’re sprawled out on the living room floor supposedly studying but I’m bored of essays and revision cards so I’ve made it my own personal mission to distract him to the point of giving up.

“So, we could just watch a movie while we wait for them to get here,” I said, poking him, “that would be way more exciting than whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Substrate-level phosphorylation,” he says with a smirk, knowing I have no idea what that is. 

“Sounds super complicated,” I say, “so come on, why don’t we watch Star Wars or something, that would be way easier.”

“There comes a time, Dean Winchester, when we must choose between what is right and what is easy.”

“You’re such a dork,” I laugh, ruffling his hair. He mock glares at me, which only serves to makes me laugh harder. Eventually I manage to quit laughing, and in the sudden silence I notice something in the way he’s looking at me, something in the way his head is tilted quizzically to one side and his eyes are staring deep into mine.

It occurs to me why they call it eye _contact_.

“What?” I say, maintaining my aura of elegance and sophistication just marvellously.

“Oh, nothing.” Cas half-smiles. I am becoming slowly aware of just how close we are, because I should probably not be able to see the faint trace of stubble that lines his chin. My heart stutters in my chest as I look at him, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. Trying to figure out what on earth is going on, because _something_ definitely is. 

“Evening,” Gabriel's voice sounds from across the room and I flinch, jerking back.

“Nothing was happening!” I blurt out before my brain kicks into gear, immediately regretting it. Of course something was happening, he's not freaking blind you moron, and way to sound suspicious. He and Sammy just look at each other, fighting back a laugh, then Sam goes to get a takeout menu from the pile by the phone.

“Pizza okay with you guys? Or were you planning on just eating each other tonight?” Sam says, smirking like he's being clever, so I throw a cushion at him.

“Pizza would indeed be acceptable,” Cas answers with a small smile.


	9. Dinner makes for an excellent first date. Not that this is a date. No, of course it's not a date. Who said date? Not me, that's for sure.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oooh look at me being all nice to these characters ^.^  
> To alpacameron: here's your update :)  
> Enjoy! :) And please comment/kudos I really love hearing from people who like reading the crazy ramblings of my insane mind ;)

At lunch the next day, Cas and Charlie are talking animatedly about some dinner thing they’re organising for the three of us, eagerly filling me in as I sit down.

“So I was just saying to Cas that I’ve got a voucher for burgers at this new restaurant called The Roadhouse and that we should definitely go there on Friday!”

Her excitement is so contagious that I can’t help but grin.

“And then I suggested we make it a semi-formal thing and dress up reasonably nice and have a bit of fun with it,” Charlie continues, “maybe show Cas off a bit, since he never goes to any social event ever.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I say, smiling at them both.

 

* * *

 

I have never been more indecisive about what to wear to a friendly dinner ever in my whole life. I end up with an old pain of dark jeans that I know are smart-ish and a button-down shirt. Charlie has sent me a picture of what she’s wearing, a new dress that her Mum has been trying to force her into wearing for about the last year, but she’s paired it with flip-flops so obviously she meant it when she said _semi_ -formal. I’m actually starting to look forward to this.

But then of course Mum has to go out that evening and I can’t for the life of me get hold of Gabriel (or indeed anyone else) which means Sam would have to stay at home alone, and while I know he’s old enough, Mum would kill me. Which means I have to stay behind and look after him. Just my luck. I should probably call Cas, or Charlie, or both. Probably both.

And then my phone rings. I flush slightly and swallow nervously as I read the caller ID. Castiel Novak. I’ve been saying it for years; I swear that kid is psychic or something.

“Hot date?” Sam teases, taking in both my clothes and the look on my face. I swat him away and raise my mobile to my ear.

“Dean,” he says, his voice so matter-of-fact that I can’t help but smile.

“Hey,” I reply easily, all nerves gone. I mean, it’s not like this is actually a date outside of my imagination. “Listen, I was just about to call you, I think we’re going to have to rearrange.”

“Oh?” he says, and am I imagining the disappointment in his voice? Must be, he wasn’t _that_ keen about this.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve suddenly got Sam to look after, and I can’t really leave him on his own.”

“You could always bring him along?”

“That’d be…” Well, perfect, actually. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“I was under the impression that you were showing me off,” he teases, “even if it just is to Sam.”

“Well, why wouldn’t I want to?” I reply. It occurs to me that we might be flirting. 

“Who knows, who knows, your mind works in mysterious ways.”

“Stop making fun of me,” I admonish, and we both laugh.

“But seriously, bring him along. I know Charlie won’t mind, she loves hanging out with him because they’re almost as nerdy as each other, and it might give me some time to actually talk to you. We don’t generally get the chance when she’s around, it’s so hard to get a word in edgeways.”

“Yeah, you’re right, it’d be nice to actually find out something about you,” I reply, partly to make him laugh but mostly because really I do mean it. I like Cas and it would be nice to have a little peace from Charlie.

“Okay then, it’s settled. Bring him along. Then we can pass him over to Charlie, and they can have their usual conversations about all the shows we don’t watch, and we can actually chat.”

“Perfect. You’re the best, Cas.”

“Oh, honey, I know,” he replies, and yes, that is definitely flirting. Curious.

“Great, I’ll, uh, see you in five.”

“Can’t wait.”

I hang up, still smiling, and accidentally catch Sam’s eye, who seems slightly shell-shocked.

“Hot date?” he asks again.

 

* * *

 

We arrive at The Roadhouse less than five minutes later. Sam just rolls his eyes when I say I’m not leaving him home without Mum, then grabs his coat and is outside even before I am. He loves spending time with Charlie, because she doesn’t treat him like a little kid the way I do. Cas is already there, and one of the waitresses is leaning over the bar to talk to him, obviously flirting. Cas looks completely oblivious, something I am extremely grateful for. 

He’s wearing what looks to be, oh god is that a fucking waistcoat? With his sleeves rolled up to show those arms. And tight black jeans that curve in _all the right places_. Jesus fuck, is he trying to kill me? Because looking like that he might just succeed.

“Hey, Cas,” I say.

“Dean,” Cas smiles broadly, “and Sam.”

“Hi,” Sam half-waves, then starts to look around. “Is Charlie here yet?”

“You bet I am, kiddo.” Charlie appears suddenly from behind us, making Cas jump. 

“How do you manage to sneak up on us every single time?” he demands.

“I’m a ninja, baby,” she winks, then grabs Sam by the hand. “Come on, there’s something you just  _have_ to see, let’s leave these two to be all cute and relationshipey together.” 

Sam seems pretty content to be dragged away, so I let them go. Which just leaves me and Cas.

“So,” Cas says.

“So,” I reply.

“Uh, how was your day?”

“Not bad. Yours?”

“Not bad.”

The waitress is looking over at us, and giving me some pretty nasty looks now that I’m distracting Cas from her. Good.

“You know that waitress that was talking to you,” I say in a low voice to Cas.

“What about her?” he asks.

“You did realise she was flirting with you, right?”

“I’m not blind, Dean.” He raises an eyebrow, “why, is there a problem?”

“Oh, no, no not at all, just wasn’t sure if you’d noticed.”

“Huh. Well, maybe I could get her to come home with me, what do you think?”

_Over. My. Dead. Body._

“Her?” I say, shrugging with feigned nonchalance. “Sure you could.”

“But then again, maybe I don’t want to.”

“Make up your mind,” I laugh.

Cas throws an arm round my shoulder and then turns his head to send the waitress a cheeky wink. When all she does is look slightly bewildered, he looks up at me and then we erupt into heavy laughter, all tension broken. We spend the rest of the evening like that, chatting and laughing and just having a good time. There is no mention at all of what Charlie said about us being cute together, but I can’t seem to think about anything else. I feel like I might be fourteen again and fuck does it feel good.

“I should probably go,” Cas says at last, as he swills the dregs of what he claims is his third drink, but is probably more like his sixth, round the bottom of his glass.

“Yeah, me too,” I reply, looking over to where Sam and Charlie are now sitting, her head on his arm. 

“They’ve been talking about us all evening,” Cas says lightly. “I think Charlie might have started planning the wedding.”

“Well, there’s no one I’d rather be in charge of our wedding,” I reply, unsure of whether or not he’s joking.

“Damn straight,” Charlie calls from across the room.

“I think you mean damn gay,” Cas fires back, and as he catches my eye we burst out laughing. He gets up and stretches, exposing a sliver of stomach. Not that I was looking. 

There’s the barest of an awkward pause as we stand there, each feeling like we should do something to close the evening, and each unsure of what would be too much or too little. In the end, I clap him a little too hard on the shoulder and Cas just nods, and then we part ways with bright smiles tugging at the curve of our lips. I turn just as he pushes the door open, and am startled into something that is most definitely not a giggle - seriously, why is Sam looking at me like that, it wasn’t - as Cas turns with a dirty wink. I blow him a kiss, and then go to tell Charlie yet again that I am most definitely not in love with Cas. It’s just a stupid crush. Which is irrelevant anyway, because he’s straight. Right?


	10. Dean really needs to start sketching people other than Cas, it's only going to get him in trouble. Well, I say trouble...

“Aaargh I can’t do this stupid analysis,” I burst out, throwing my pen across the room in despair.

We’re in the library trying to write an essay for English. Well, I’m trying. Cas is just succeeding.

“If you think you're so crap at it, why don't you quit?” Cas asks as he picks up my pen from where it has landed under his desk and walks over to place it next to me.

“I’m good at the creative bits. And Mum says I have to take at least 3 subjects, and it’s a bit late to change now.”

“What do you want to do at uni?”

“I probably won’t go; just get a job to support Mum and Sam. But if I do go, I’ll do art.”

“Oh? What kind of stuff do you draw?”

“All sorts really, nothing specific. Mostly people.” Mostly you.

“Any chance you’ve got a sketchbook with you? I’d be interested to see your work.”

“I can bring it next time, if you’re really interested and not just saying it to be polite.” 

“I’m really interested.” 

Great, so now I’ll have to find some sketches that are _not Cas_. That’s going to be tricky.

 

* * *

 

We’re at lunch the next day when he gets the chance to see. He’s talking to Charlie, laughing about something in a book they’re both reading, something by Derek Landy. I fish my sketchbook out of my bag and put pencil to paper, furiously scribbling. I have to get this down before I lose this memory, this look on his face. He has never looked happier. He has never looked more beautiful. He has never looked more alive.

“You’re drawing me?” he says, suddenly, and I feel myself flush red. I carry on drawing so I do not have to look at Cas but out of the corner of my eye I see Charlie shake a little as she starts to laugh softly. I glare at her but my heart’s not in it and she only winks. 

“Why?” Cas asks.

“Because he’s in love with you,” Charlie sighs, exasperatedly, “and this is the closest he’s ever going to get to touching your face.”

“Stop it,” I say, trying to be serious, but I’m having to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

“Dean?” Cas says. I glance up at him, and oh there is another look I would love to save forever, his head tilted just so. I flip the page and start a second sketch.

“Yes?”

“Why me?”

“Because, darling, you are simply ravishing.”

“Be serious,” he laughs. Oh, if only he knew that I am.

“You never draw me anymore,” Charlie points out, pouting. “Ever since the beginning of this year you never seem to draw anyone else.”

“Really?” Cas says softly, looking right at me. I flip the page again, and start on a third.

“I have to produce a series of sketches of the same person for my portfolio, for Art, and Cas is prettier than you are,” I tease.

After a few minutes, I close my sketchbook and place it square on my lap. 

“Sorry, what were you saying about another movie night?”

“We can’t have one anytime soon, because Mum’s getting all serious about revising and exams and other sucky things.”

“Well maybe if you actually did some work…” I trail off, laughing, as Charlie pouts at me.

“Yeah, cos you work all the time,” she retorts. I hold up my sketchbook in protest.

“This is work! I was just working!”

“Not proper work!” she fires back, still pouting.

We sit for a moment in silence.

“Can I see?” Cas blurts out, blushing slightly.

“Yeah, sure,” I say, handing the sketchbook over like it’s no big deal, but my stomach’s doing cartwheels.

He flips through the pictures slowly, mostly just sketches of his face, but there’s a couple of him and Charlie, or him and Sam, or him and Gabriel, and one from a baby photo I borrowed from his house a month or so ago.

“I never knew,” he says quietly, almost reverently.

I don’t have the chance to ask what because then the bell rings for fifth period.


	11. This is the moment that everything starts to come together, and also when everything starts to fall apart.

This is the moment that everything starts to come together, and also when everything starts to fall apart.

We’re in the kitchen, me and Cas and Sam. Cas and I are talking, and the pause in our conversation is allowing us to stare at each other. Well, me to stare at him and try to figure out what on earth he’s thinking while he just tilts his head adorably.

"Oh for fucks sake, would the two of you just kiss already?” Sam says.

"What?" I snap, taking a large step towards Sam and, more importantly, away from Cas who is still looking at me like I'm the only human on the planet, which is starting to verge on the creepy side of hot. Oh, who am I kidding. There's nothing creepy about it, it’s just hot.

Sam rolls his eyes. "Oh come on Dean, get over it. Everyone knows you're gay for Cas. There's even some kids in my class taking bets on who'll come out first - you or the next season of Sherlock."

"I hope you bet on Dean," Cas comments dryly, and I can clearly hear the amusement in his voice.

"Don't you start," I shoot over my shoulder, "last thing this idiot needs is egging on." I storm off upstairs, trying to stop my hands from shaking. If Sammy has noticed, then how long will it be before Cas does? How long have I got before my penchant for gay love destroys the only friendship I've ever truly wanted? Okay, okay, so I’m being really overdramatic. And I’ve still got Charlie, but she's more a sister than anything else. And Sam is actually my brother so he doesn't really count either. And Gabriel’s just hangs out with is because he’s in love with Sam, though neither of them would admit it.

Jesus, Dean. Breathe.

And stop fucking panicking.

Oh fuck I'm in deep with this one. And maybe Cas is cool with gay guys so maybe he wouldn't mind if I was gay for someone else. But being gay for him? Totally different ball game. And not one he'll want to play. I've been telling myself that he might be gay, because he never looks at a girl twice, but I know that's just me hoping. Dreaming. I wish I wasn't this way, wish I didn't have this stupid crush. Wish I could just be normal. 

"Dean?" I know it's Cas, but I don't raise my head to look at him.

"Yeah, what?"

"I'd best be getting home," he says with such finality that I know it's over. Cas figured it out, or Sammy told him, but either way he knows.

"Okay. Goodbye." I mutter, turning my back on him and fiddling with something on my bedside table. After a moment, the door clicks shut and I close my eyes against the single, angry tear that rolls down my cheek. Total chick-flick moment, but honestly I'm past caring. I've lost Cas and I can't imagine life without him and suddenly everything seems pointless.

 

* * *

 

I get a text from Cas at 1:47am. 

I’m lying awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling in the moonlight and wondering what on earth is going to happen in english class tomorrow when my phone vibrates softly. I ignore it, but when it vibrates for the fifth time I sigh and reach over.

_I can’t sleep._

_I know you’re awake too. Sam told me._

_Can we meet up? We need to talk._

_I’ll be at the park, by the statue. Come find me._

_Please._

I consider not turning up, because I really don’t want to see him, but if he already know I’m awake there’s no point in pretending. Damn Sammy for interfering. I’ll have to put blue hair dye in his shampoo again. So I roll over and pull on a pair of jeans; the night is warm enough not to warrant a jumper. Sam is sitting by the radiator on the stairs, book in hand, and I flick his ear on my way out. He opens his mouth, but then appears to change his mind and merely grins before letting me go without a fuss. Maybe I won’t resort to hair dye this time. Perhaps itching powder would be better? Although, on the other hand, if he told Mum then she would would want to know why he was still awake reading at this hour, so he probably was acting more out of a sense of self-preservation than anything else.

Once at the back door, I choose flip-flops over trainers simply because I forgot to put socks on. This means my feet smack against the warm tarmac as I make my way down the empty streets. All the windows are dark, all lights off, and I’m grateful for the moonlight because the streetlights round here are crap at best, and there won’t be any in the park anyway. As I pass through the gates I see a figure sitting on the war memorial ahead of me. I walk slowly towards it, repeating in my head that it probably isn’t Cas and that even if it is, who gives a crap because he is your friend and he doesn’t know you’re crushing on him and just breath, for gods sake, Dean, what are you, man or mouse?

“Dean?” A voice calls out, and yes I can tell it’s Cas and there is _no reason_ for my heart to leap in my chest but it damn well does it anyway.

“Heya, Cas,” I say, shakily, “what’s up?”

“I think we need to talk.”

“Yeah, man, you said.”

There’s an awkward silence. He hops down off the statue and walks over to a bench nearby, patting the space beside him. I sink down next to him, playing nervously with the hem of my shirt.

“So,” I say, “what are we talking about?”

“What Sam said earlier… is it true?”

“That people are betting on whether we’re more gay than Sherlock? Dunno. Kid had no reason to lie.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

There’s another pause.

“You reacted quite strongly when Sam suggested you might be gay.” Cas comments suddenly.

“So?” I reply, defensively.

“I just wondered what your views were. On homosexuality. Because you came across as mildly homophobic and I just wanted to know if I need to start running for the hills.” He cracks a smile at this, but I can tell he’s only half-joking.

“I ain’t got no reason to stop people from falling in love.”

“That’s good to know,” Cas replies matter-of-factly, but I can visibly see him relax.

“What about you?” I ask. He gives me an odd look.

“Well considering I’m gay it would be a little odd for me to be homophobic,” he says lightly.

Wait, what?

“Wait, what?”

“I’m gay, Dean. I thought you knew.”

“Uh no.”

“Huh. Maybe I just never told you,” he shrugs, “it’s not a big deal.”

“No,” I say softly, “it’s not.” There is a pause, and he turns towards me, his voice low.

“So why _did_ you react so strongly?”

Oh, Cas, if only you knew. But even now I can't tell you.

“Just don’t like people talking about me, I guess.”

“You think being gay is a bad thing?”

“Just not sure if I want to be defined by that label.”

“Gay instead of straight?”

“Gay instead of anything. I dunno, man, I’m still figuring myself out, don’t want it to be decided for me.” 

Cas nods, as though this makes sense, and we part not long afterwards, my brain fizzing with the new information. Cas being gay was the best and worst thing that could ever have happened. Best thing ever because it meant I had a chance. Worst thing ever because it meant I had a chance. While I thought he was straight, it was easy for me to tell myself that I should just forget about him because it was never going to happen, and I was getting over him… Okay, that’s a total lie. I was not even close to starting to get over him. But at least I was trying. Now I have no reason to even try. 

 

* * *

 

But then, the next day I find this note in my locker.

_Dean,_

_I am free this evening if you would like to accompany me to the cinema. I don’t think there’s anything particularly interesting playing, but it would be nice to spend time with you, either way._

_Yours,_

_Cas_


	12. The calm before the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of book one! Next fic in this collection should be up within the next few days or so :)  
> Hope you enjoy - please review and let me know what you think! :)  
> Thanks for reading! :)

“So a little birdie tells me that you and Cas are going to see a movie tonight,” is the first thing Charlie says to me as she thumps her tray down on the table at lunch.

“It’s no big deal,” I mumble around a mouthful of chips.

“Uh, yeah it is,” she shoots back, sticking out her tongue at me. “Come on! You’ve been crushing on him forever. This. Is. A. Big. Deal.” 

“Okay, I will possibly admit that this is a big deal. But I’m not worried. It’s fine.” She just raises an eyebrow at me.

“I think that you need the bracelet of luck,” she muses quietly, her eyes lighting up as she unties it from round her wrist. Charlie and I found the bracelet of luck at a funfair right before she was going to see her Dad for the first time since the divorce. She was kinda terrified so when I won it in a game of hook-the-duck I gave it to her and said it would bring her luck. She’s never taken it off since, so her giving it to me is a huge deal.

“Charlie, I can’t take the bracelet of luck…” I start to say, but she waves it away.

“Don’t be stupid of course you can. I’ve already taken it off, see? And I think you need it more than I do.”

The only person in the world more stubborn than I am is Charlie, so I roll my eyes and put my arm out on the table for her. It’s so light that I can barely feel it, but running my fingers over its woven strands is kinda comforting. 

“Thanks, Charlie,” I smile at her.

“No problem, kiddo,” she smiles back.

 

* * *

 

One more lesson and then I can go pick up Cas and we can get out of here. I repeat this like a mantra in my head as I half-listen to Mrs Milton drone on about To Kill a Mockingbird and how amazing Scout and Jem are. I roll my eyes at Charlie as she uses the phrase “brave young souls” for about the millionth time.

I tear the corner off my notebook and scrawl _This is the most bored I’ve ever been in the whole of my life_ before passing it to Charlie.

She stifles a giggle, casually turning it into a cough as Miss Milton looks up sharply, narrowing her eyes. 

“Dean Winchester!”

“Yes?” I reply.

“Would you please repeat whatever it was you said that made Charlotte there laugh and disturb my lesson?” I feel Charlie wince as Miss Milton uses her full name. I open my mouth to tell Miss Milton exactly where she could put that idea when Charlie speaks first.

“He didn’t say anything, Miss, I was, uh, texting and my friend sent me something funny.” I stare at her in amazement. Why the hell is she doing this?

“Very well, Charlotte, please switch off your phone and place it on my desk. You will stay for detention after class.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Once Charlie has abandoned her phone and Miss Milton has resumed speaking about the Finches, I shoot Charlie a questioning look. She turns over the paper I passed her and writes a short sentence before subtly handing it to me under the desk.

_I refuse to allow all my planning to fall through because of that bitch - she will NOT force you to postpone your date with Cas_

_It’s not a date, Charlie_

_Yeah, it is. Now pay attention or you’ll have to stay behind anyway, and my brave sacrifice will have been for nothing!_

 

* * *

 

Once class has finished I hug Charlie, tell her I love her and that she’s the best friend ever, then scoot forwards to tap Cas on the shoulder.

“You ready?” I ask.

“Sure, lets go,” he replies, excitedly.

We walk out into the sun, chatting about all the work we have to do and how we really can’t afford to go see this movie but damn it all we’re going anyway. I don’t think he stops grinning once. We decide to walk to the cinema, instead of getting his Mum to give us a ride, so that we don’t have to worry about getting out quickly afterwards. I pay for the tickets while he finds the money for popcorn and grins sheepishly at me when he gets a large for us to share. I start to wonder whether he sees this as a date as much as Charlie does. 

The room is completely deserted when we walk in, so we choose a pair of seats right in the middle. Cas is practically bouncing with excitement, and I have to admit that I’m struggling to hold it back too. While waiting for the movie to start we argue good-naturedly about our guesses on the plot. Cas can’t seem to decide what he thinks, and I’m more than happy to tease him about this. By the time the lights finally dim I’m already enjoying myself more than I ever hoped I could. 

And that right there is one of the best moments I remember from my childhood; the moment right before the movie starts. And the dizzying anticipation in the darkness between these clips and the first shot are the best part; even better then the climax, even better than sitting there in awe or laughing or in tears at the end. Because right there are so many possibilities. From this moment on _anything_ could happen. And here, in the dark, with Cas at my side, I think that maybe something could.

But not all stories have a happy ending.


End file.
